


Quizards on the Run

by FloreatCastellum



Series: Slice of Life One-Shots [14]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 10:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloreatCastellum/pseuds/FloreatCastellum
Summary: They were told the quiz at The Leaky Cauldron was good.





	Quizards on the Run

They had heard the Leaky Cauldron did a good pub quiz, so they had booked a table in the shadowiest corner, made sure Harry was wearing his hat low over his forehead and given themselves the team name of the Quizards on the Run by the suggestion of Ron.

They ordered bowls of chips along with their beers, and the quiz mistress, a northern witch with a short black bob and a nose piercing, handed around the quiz sheets.

‘Newbies?’ she asked them, and they nodded. ‘Here’s your picture round, you can do that throughout, I’ll collect it at the end. Here’s the quiz sheet. Any cheating and I’ll take you outside and spank you.’

‘My word,’ said Ginny, as they all giggled. ‘What would be the best way of cheating, would you say?’

The quiz mistress winked at her, and they laughed as she walked away. Harry held out his hands and tilted his head at her. ‘Are we just allowed to flirt with other people now?’ he said, grinning.

‘I only asked what we were all wondering,’ she said cheekily back.

‘Brilliant!’ said Ron suddenly. ‘The picture round is Quidditch team logos! We’ll whizz through it.’

And indeed they did - identifying all but one easily. ‘I’m sure that’s a team from round Essex way,’ said Ginny, twiddling the quill in her fingers. ‘A really crap one…’

‘Romford Raptors?’ Harry suggested.

‘Nah… Though they are shit,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll come back to it.’

The quiz mistress’s Yorkshire accent boomed around the pub as the quiz began; Ron immediately took the quiz sheet and slid it towards Hermione. ‘You write,’ he whispered. ‘You’ll probably have the answer before the rest of us have heard the question.’

‘The first round is in the news this week,’ said the quiz mistress. ‘The round where I test if you’ve all been keeping up to date with the latest goings on in the wizarding world. Question one… The International Confederation of Wizards announced a new regulation on Tuesday, concerning the standardisation of the production of what?’

‘Ugh,’ groaned Ron. ‘We need Percy with us.’

But Hermione was already scribbling ‘potion vials’ onto the sheet. Harry grimaced, and turned to Ron. ‘Who told you this quiz was good?’

‘Proudfoot.’

‘Right, well let’s never listen to him again-’

‘Question two!’ called the quiz mistress. ‘The lead singer of which band recently announced her engagement to the wizarding attaché of Bolivia, just one week after splitting with her long time boyfriend Stubby Boardman?’

‘Ooh,’ said Ginny, lunging forward to seize the quill from Hermione.

‘You’re still reading Witch Weekly, aren’t you?’ said Harry suspiciously.

‘Only ironically,’ she said.

Ron got another round of drinks in by the time the first category was finished - Harry had been able to answer a question about the arrest of a senior ex-employee of the Ministry, and Hermione had been able to answer literally everything else.

‘I think we’re doing quite well,’ she said proudly, looking down at the sheet.

‘You can’t get a grade in it,’ Ron warned her.

‘No, but there’s a ten galleon bar tab for the winners,’ she said. Ron seemed to pay a lot more attention on the next round; wizarding geography around the world, and the one after that, wizard games and sport, which Ginny aced.

By the music round, they were all on their third drinks, and feeling rather giggly.

‘No, no,’ Ron was saying to Ginny. ‘No, it’s definitely the Hobgoblins-’

‘It’s not! I’m telling you - listen to it, bah bah bah ba-dah ba-dah - it’s Quincy Quaffle-’

‘What are the lyrics then? Go on - sing ‘em.’

‘To have a witch like you, catch a snitch like youuu, ohh…’

‘Oh, shit she’s right, yeah…’

They were in luck; the second half of the music round was focused on muggle songs, and so Harry and Hermione, who were sitting next to each other and had both perhaps let the beer go to their heads, were swaying clumsily, their shoulders bumping, as they sang through their laughter.

‘With flaming locks of auburn hair and eyes of emerald green…’

But the best part was when a thumping sort of beat played, and both Harry and Hermione frowned in recognition, before he gasped and tapped her on the shoulder rapidly. ‘It’s from that film! The one we watched with the Muggleborn Committee after Christmas!’

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in excited realisation too, and simultaneously they started moving their right shoulders in time, then lifted their fists and made gentle pulling motions, as though thrusting. ‘I want some hot stuff baby tonight…’

Ginny squeaked her shocked laughter; Ron just grinned incredulously at them. ‘Sorry?’ he asked. ‘What have you been watching at those committee socials?’

‘Oh, but who sang it?’ laughed Harry, scrunching his nose up as he struggled to remember. ‘I can’t think of anything but the film.’

‘The same one who did Bad Girls-’

‘Donna Summer,’ said Harry immediately, and Hermione burst out laughing.

‘How did you know that?’

‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Hermione,’ he said mysteriously. ‘I had a very successful side gig in the summers in… Little Whinging Disco Hall,’ he made up. ‘It was the place to be in Surrey, full disco get-up compulsory.’

Hermione was collapsed onto the table in snorting giggles, and though neither Ron nor Ginny really understood what they were talking about, their laughter was so infectious that they couldn’t help but join in, to the extent that none of them could really hear the next song.

‘That table in the corner needs to quieten down,’ called the quiz mistress. ‘Before I hex their toes.’

‘Sorry!’ called Harry, still trying to suppress his laughter.

But the next round undid them completely.

‘Now it’s time for my celebrity spotlight round!’ called the quiz mistress. ‘Each week I pick whatever celebrity I’ve been having naughty dreams about lately, and set you five questions on their life and work. This week’s is Harry Pott-’

The rest of her question was lost in the roar of their laughter, so loud that the rest of the pub turned to look at them. Harry, shaking with laughter, pulled the peak of his cap down further and turned so that he was half facing the wall, ignoring Hermione who had once again collapsed onto the table in giggles. ‘Fucks sake…’ he muttered.

‘Are you all all right?’ asked the quiz mistress, who sounded like she wasn’t sure whether to be alarmed or amused. ‘You all been having naughty dreams about him too?’

‘Yes!’ called Ginny immediately, and they all bit back their laughter again, pressing their hands against their mouths, breathless, their stomachs aching with effort of it.

‘Well, at the risk of killing the table in the corner, I will begin,’ said the quiz mistress. ‘Question one: which town’s claim to fame is that Harry Potter called it home?’

Harry opened his mouth and paused. ‘I… don’t know,’ he said slowly, and they fell about laughing again. ‘Does she mean Godric’s Hollow or Little Whinging?’

‘Got to be Godric’s Hollow, surely,’ said Ron.

‘That seems too obvious though,’ whispered Hermione. ‘Doesn’t it? Everyone knows Godric’s Hollow.’

‘I dunno, might have been obvious if they said, where did his parents get murdered or something,’ said Harry.

‘That’s a bit morbid for a pub quiz, Harry,’ said Ginny.

‘How cheerful do you think this round is going to be?’ he asked her, and Ron snorted with laughter again. ‘Little Whinging seems too hard. And I never called it home.’

‘They don’t know that.’

‘It’s a trick question,’ said Harry firmly. ‘Put Harry had no home and a sad face.’

‘Put Godric’s Hollow,’ said Ron.

‘Question two!’ trilled the quiz mistress. ‘To the nearest half centimetre, how big is the Boy-Who-Lived’s…’ she paused for comedic effect, and there were several whistles in the pub. Ron, Ginny and Hermione sniggered gleefully while Harry shook his head, looking horror struck. ‘…Famous lightning bolt-shaped scar?’

Harry huffed in melodramatic relief, as Ron leaned forward and pushed up his cap, squinting at his head. ‘Can you not just remember it?’ Harry asked him.

‘I don’t really look at your face if I can help it, mate,’ said Ron. ‘What d’you think, two inches? What is that in centimetres?’

‘I dunno.’

‘How do you not know, it’s on your face.’

‘I’ve never measured it, have I?’

‘Bet you’ve measured other parts,’ Ron muttered goadingly, and Harry put on an exaggerated happy face and held up his middle finger.

‘About five centimeters,’ said Hermione, grinning as she wrote it down. ‘Does this count as cheating?’

‘Well, I can’t really help knowing facts about my life, Hermione.’

‘Question three!’ called the quiz mistress, and Ginny hushed them. ‘What are the full names of the two companions known to be Harry Potter’s closest allies?’

‘Dunno,’ said Harry. ‘Could be anyone.’

‘Ssh, shut up,’ said Hermione, impressively using her left hand to tipsily cover Harry’s mouth while continuing to write with her right. ‘I can’t believe I’m the answer in a quiz, don’t ruin this for me.’

‘Oooh, the scathing looks you gave us when we were excited about those chocolate frog cards,’ said Ron.

‘Question four: Which national level Quidditch player is reportedly dating the Chosen One?’ asked the quiz mistress, and then, in a lower voice, ‘the lucky so and so,’ to which there were a few scattered jeers around the pub.

Ginny waggled her eyebrows smugly, but Harry leaned towards Hermione, his head low to the table and, bravely, said in a quiet voice, ‘yeah, I think it’s erm, Cho Chang?’ He grinned as Ginny gasped and threw a beer mat at him - it bounced off the top of his head, and he leaned across to kiss her in apology.

‘No, no, no,’ said Ron. ‘I’m not drunk enough yet to not be grossed out by that.’

‘And question five! Our final question of the evening,’ announced the quiz mistress. ‘How many scars in total is The Chosen One reported to have on his body? Two points for the exact right number, one point if you get it within three.’

They all looked at him expectantly, and he gaped back. ‘I… I’ve never counted… I don’t know where they would have even got that information-’

‘Well pop into the bathroom and get your kit off,’ said Ginny brightly. ‘I’ll join you in five. We can even count your scars if you like.’

Ron groaned as disgust as Hermione laughed; but Harry just frowned in confusion. ‘I’m just trying to count the ones I think people would know about,’ he said.

‘No, fuck it,’ said Ron. ‘Go with the full number, scare them with how big it is. Once they imagine your messed up body, you might stop appearing in her naughty dreams.’

‘Fine,’ said Harry. He thought for a few moments. Head, chest twice, arm, hand, right leg-

‘Emotional scars don’t count,’ said Ron.

‘Well then it’s a much less impressive number,’ said Harry. ‘Six.’ Hermione leant down to write it, but he suddenly remembered the newest one on his side, and said, ‘no wait, seven! Seven.’

‘You’re a long way off Moody yet, aren’t you?’ said Ginny.

‘I’ve got time, I’m only nineteen,’ he said.

They did not, after the papers had been collected and marks tallied up, win the ten galleon bar tab. However, the quiz mistress also had a bag of novelty gifts, which she seemingly gave out to whichever teams she had most liked that week, whether for funny team names and answers or sheer enthusiasm.

‘And my trash smut novel I found in the discount section of Flourish and Blotts…’ she said, scanning down her list of team names and their marks. ‘I’m… I’m going to give this to a team I think will get a good giggle out of it, because they’ve been laughing all evening. They were also the only team who got full marks on the Harry Potter round - come and get your shit prize, Quizards on the Run!’

‘You have to get it,’ urged Ron, his face alive with glee as he prodded Harry’s arm. ‘Please, for once, for once use your fame, please-’

Yes!’ hissed Ginny. ‘Harry-’

Hermione, with a surprising amount of strength, shoved him in the shoulder so hard that he was forced to stand so that he didn’t fall off the chair. With a reproachful but amused glare back at them, Harry walked to scattered applause, up to the bar where the quiz mistress was sitting on a tall stool.

She smiled as he approached, and as he got closer, a slight frown seemed to cross her brow. He took the book she held outstretched for him (Sinful Siren - Seeking the Sublime), and just as he was about to walk away, he winked at her.

She gasped, the enchantment on her voice making it echo around the pub, and though Harry didn’t break his gait or look back as he walked to Ginny, Ron and Hermione, he could see their laughing faces, and later found out that she had buried her face in her hands.


End file.
